


Midnight Decisions

by roughlycut



Series: Shimadacest Week 2017 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Human Genji Shimada, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9158044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roughlycut/pseuds/roughlycut
Summary: I can't stop watching my phoneCan't turn it offWhat is wrong with me? I can't, babyBut if you change your mind then I'll miss itNow I'm crying aloneHotel, never much funNot when there's nobody to catch your tearsOut here





	1. Chapter 1

Genji must have unlocked his phone about a hundred times by now, written out whole messages, only to delete them seconds later. He’s hovered his thumb over the re-dial button for minutes, before locking his phone, only to repeat the whole process moments after. Hanzo had stopped trying to contact him a week ago, but that didn’t mean Genji had stopped debating how to return his calls and messages, replaying the voicemails his older brother had left him over and over again.

Stuffing his phone in the pocket of his shorts, Genji lifts his gaze, taking in the sight of his hotel room. It’s empty now, but the signs of weeks of non-stop partying still remained. There’s dried up red wine on the floor, dozens of empty sushi trays stacked in the kitchen, and all the chairs have been pushed together in the corner. He vaguely recalls moving them, intent on building a pillow fort, just before he threw everybody out. It had reminded him too much of Hanzo.

He sighs and gets up from the sofa, trying to distract himself from the temptation of digging his phone out of his pocket by gathering empty bottles and wipe off coke-dusted mirrors. He cleans his face of smudged eyeliner and glitter before grabbing his white fluffy coat, a pack of cigarettes, and head for the balcony.

The air is mild and the smell of rain still lingers in the air. The large grey stone tiles are cold and wet underneath his feet, and he spends a good five minutes dipping his toes in the small puddles, before lighting up a cigarette. He watches as the smoke swirls in the wind, trying not to think of how Hanzo would scold him for his unhealthy habit.

Below him Tokyo’s colored lights and big animated billboards shimmer and flicker, illuminating the never empty streets, swarms of people on an eternal journey. Genji enjoys being above it all like this, not because he feels superior, but because he likes watching people. Hanzo doesn’t, but he’d kept him company in countless cafés regardless, working as he let Genji consume unhealthy amounts of iced coffee. He feels a sting of pain in his chest and the familiar prickle of tears in his eyes as he recalls holding his brothers hand underneath the table, his hand warm and dry, thumb brushing over his knuckles in a calming pace.

The knot in Genji’s stomach has gotten tighter over the past few days, gnawing at his insides, despite his best efforts to drown it in expensive alcohol and cheap company. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and wipes his eyes in the sleeve of his jacket. It’s gone on for far too long, and by now he isn’t even sure what started all of this. They’d fought, sure, but what about he couldn’t recall. Their father’s death? The strain of having to keep their relationship a secret? Genji’s wish to move away, to dissolve the Shimada empire, and escape? Hanzo’s dedication to their parent’s legacy, the pressure from the elders to settle down and take his father’s place?

Genji’s hand is reaching for his phone before he even realizes, cigarette flicked into a small puddle on the ground. He hesitates for a second, head spinning from alcohol and conflicting emotions. His brothers face stares at him from the phone screen, stern eyes and soft lips, the worried wrinkle between his brows especially visible in this photo. Swiftly Genji hits the green button and puts the phone to his ear.

His heart is pounding so fast he’s afraid it’ll burst through his chest, the beep from the phone signifying that his brother hasn’t picked up yet. The feeling of regret creeps under his skin, worried that he’s missed his chance to reconcile. Just as he’s about to hang up as there’s a soft click on the other end of the line. His mouth goes dry, swallowing the words as he tries to get them past his lips. There’s a rustle of papers and the sound of a door being closed.

“Genji?” Hanzo says, voice soft and fragile, like he’s scared the wrong word will make his younger brother hang up. Genji smiles at his brother’s obvious concern, bowing his head slightly as he pushes for his voice to come through a little clearer.

“Hanzo,” he starts, feeling the tears burning in his eyes again, “I’ve missed the sound of your voice.”


	2. Chapter 2

The line is quiet for a long time, the sound of Hanzo’s breathing being the only thing that reassures Genji he hasn’t hung up on him.

“I’ve missed the sound of your voice too, brother,” he finally replies, smile evident in his voice. Genji answers with a muted hum, feeling the muscle in his shoulders relax, a calming warmth spreading all the way to his fingertips. He wipes tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand and lifts his head, looking up at the night sky. It looks like it’s going rain again, clouds heavy in the horizon, illuminated from bellow by the glow of synthetic light. His mind wanders, thinking about his brother’s smile, the one only he gets to see. Always soft and welcoming, mirrored in Hanzo’s eyes. He thinks of the way it turns into a chuckle whenever he’d run his fingers across the dragon tattoo on his brother’s arm, tickling him lightly, before pushing him backwards on their bed, his soft hair fanning out around him.

”Can we meet?” Genji hears himself say, instantly regretting it, clasping his hand over his mouth, shoulders tensing up again. It’s too much, too soon, but he misses him so much his chest is burning. Surely Hanzo will say no. It’s late, or too early. He can feel the buzz of alcohol and pills wear off, leaving him much too self-aware for his liking, a growing feeling of panic spreading throughout his body. There’s a sound of footsteps from Hanzo’s end of the line, echoing in a hallway.

“Where are you now?” Hanzo asks, voice neutral, unaware of the wave of regret that hits Genji as he realizes Hanzo is on his way. It’s too late now, there’s no taking back his words.

“I …” he tries, but his voice fades. Hanzo’s coming, there’s no mistaking the rustle of keys and the faint ding of an elevator coming through the phone. Tears burn in his eyes again and he takes in a deep breath, trying to strangle a sob in his throat as he grabs on to the rail of the balcony. He needs to stay grounded, needs to make it through the now slowly approaching panic attack.

“Genji!” Hanzo’s voice is suddenly loud in his ear, aggressive, demanding his attention.

“I’m sorry brother, I was-“

 “Where are you?” Hanzo asks again, cutting him off, “You need to tell me where you are, please.”

“I’m … I’m at the hotel.”

Genji can hear Hanzo stop dead in his tracks, can hear his breath get stuck in his throat, and his heart aches as he vividly imagines his brothers face now, pained, surprised that Genji had been so close all this time, well within his reach. Hadn’t Hanzo looked for him? Genji tries to remember if he used a false name when checking in almost a month ago.

“Our room?” Hanzo finally asks, voice almost a whisper, barely audible. He must be outside by now Genji gathers, faint noises of traffic in the background.

Genji shakes his head, feels fresh warm tears on his cheeks. It’s right across the hall, their room. He had rented it, that much he remembered, but hadn’t set foot in it. It was theirs, something they shared. Together.

“No I couldn’t, I … not without you,” he mutters, looking down at his naked feet, wiggling his toes in the puddle he’s standing in. The chipped glitter nail polish coloring his toenails twinkle in the light. When was the last time he put on a fresh layer? And was this even his nail polish? He didn’t remember owning this shade.

“Fifteen minutes,” Hanzo says, sounding slightly out of breath, “I’ll be there in fift-”

The line goes dead. Genji holds his breath, as if refraining from breathing will keep the new surge of panic at bay. Slowly he takes the phone from his ear, letting out a sigh of relief as he sees the black screen staring back at him. Out of battery. He pushes a button, just to be sure, and the screen remains the same.

Exhaustion overcomes him, legs trembling until they give way. Slowly he sits on the wet stone, paying no mind to the water that seeps through his clothing. He leans his head against the railing of the balcony, clinging to his dead phone. Fifteen minutes. He’ll see Hanzo in fifteen minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this chapter to be longer, but I'm working through a writers block, so for now I hope you're okay with this.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 was written for day 1 of Shimadacest week. The prompt was "Forgiveness / Reconciliation".  
> Any following chapters will not follow the prompts of the week.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'd be very happy if you left a comment, just letting me know what you think.  
> You're also welcome to come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://silasthemutant.tumblr.com/) or [my twitter](https://twitter.com/BlueEyedMutt).


End file.
